


Resistance

by hatouji



Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 5
Genre: Angst, F/M, John Lives, he also cries a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-23 03:05:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17072312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hatouji/pseuds/hatouji
Summary: The Deputy has a soft spot for a man that just so happened to torture and terrorise her friends and other innocents. What will she do when his life is in her hands?





	Resistance

John lay broken on the floor, body aching, mud seeping into his clothes, a splattering of it on his face to accompany his freckles, and soul heavy. He knew it was his cockiness that was his downfall but he wondered how he fell so quickly from his brother’s grace and from his precious Affirmation, now likely reduced to a pile of scrap metal. 

He was too tired to reach for his rifle, to do much of anything other than watch Rook stare him down and wait for her to end it all, battle-worn as usual, an unreadable expression in her eyes. His own eyes scrunched slightly, tears pooling in the corners but his lips pursed into a shaky smile, a poor attempt to hide his fury, fear, faithlessness. He would die filled with regret that he couldn’t go down the path laid out for him, couldn’t convince her to stay with them.

“Do it” he taunted through gritted teeth, his Wrath staring down at him, pistol shaking in gloved hands. He didn’t need her pity or whatever this was meant to be. Having her see him so helpless on the ground hurt more than his injuries but less than the thought that he had once again let Joseph down. It would have been much easier for everyone if he had died in the plane. 

“Joseph said this would happen. He warned me. Prove him right” he whimpered, trying to keep malice in his eyes but it was getting exceedingly difficult. Why was she hesitating? What did she want from him? 

With a sigh, she lowered her pistol, heart aching at the memory of the message she had heard on the answering machine. His brother didn’t give a shit about whether he lived or died. All he cared about was the Collapse. John watched her incredulously as she slowly put her pistol back in her holster, sitting on the ground beside him for a second to catch her breath.

“What are you doing?” the man spluttered in his best attempt at outrage. She ignored him. He tried to lift himself up to lean towards her, grab her gun, but weakly slipped back down again. At that, the woman tilted her head to look at his pitiful state and her eyes softened. He was completely helpless at that moment and she knew he hated it. She was the only one who had such power over him except for his brother. She couldn’t rejoice at such a feeling in that moment.

Pulled up with a tug of his arms, he was dragged alongside her, legs stumbling weakly as he held her shoulder. He attempted to protest but when John felt as though Rook would loosen her grip on him, he tightened his in fear that she’d drop him. It was silent save for the groans that John tried to hold back and the sound of his feet slightly dragging on the dirt covered road.

Approaching the cabin, the front door was kicked and it flew open, something smashing in the process. She was too tired to care and investigate and he was too tired to chastise her for it and simply continued to cling, lids drooping as he let himself be dragged up the stairs and manoeuvred onto a bed. Letting out a sigh of relief, he fell onto the softness of a pillow.

John was aware that his face was slightly wet but he was too exhausted to keep up a facade of indifference in front of her anymore and couldn’t find himself to care about it. Everyone already knew about how pathetic he was. She’d broken him. Ignoring his inquisitive look, she took his gun from him. 

“I’m going to go to your bunker and free Hudson” she told him as she slung the strap of the rifle over her shoulder. “Then I’ll blow it up. After I’m done, I’m going to wreck Jacob’s shit next.” 

So, she would be keeping him alive. 

“I’d rather you killed me. Joseph will be furious I let this happen” he murmured, refusing to meet her gaze, ashamed to feel his eyes sting again. 

“Well, I guess you’re just gonna have to live with the consequences of your actions for once, John.”

“You don’t understand” he pleaded. She laughed at that, a short bitter laugh causing him to furrow his brows at her reaction. She sat down beside him in the bed, slowly reaching out to stroke his arm. He tensed immediately under her touch, not understanding her actions, but she still continued.

“I understand perfectly” she argued.

“He’ll cast me out” he whimpered “I failed him time and time again. Keep your fucking pity,” he attempted to jerk his arm away from her “and just end it. Leave me on the side of the road if you’ve become too soft and one of the Resistance members will happily do it for you.”

“I can’t do that, John.”

“Why?”

“Joseph will just claim this was meant to be, God’s will or some shit and he’s probably already accepted that you’re dead.” He let out a shaky breath. None of it made sense. Why the fuck did she care about how Joseph treated him? Why wouldn’t she just do everyone a favour and kill him?

“I can’t answer your question and I don’t know what to do but since we’re here now and since I went to all that trouble to drag you here, I’m not letting you die just yet. I’ll find one of your Chosen or something to tend to you and then I’ll be out of your hair” Rook promised. His hand jerked towards her and grabbed a hold of her arm as she began to pull away and leave, inked fingers pale against her dark jacket, paler in his battered state. 

“Stay with me” he murmured. Rook narrowed her eyes in response to his request but she couldn’t claim it was unexpected. He was acting like a clingy child and he no longer cared about how he must have looked to her, too scared to shun her kindness. He was desperate. Neither side of the war was safe for him any longer. She made it clear that she wouldn’t give him the sweet release of death that he wanted. All he had was her now and his fate was in her hands. If she didn’t kill him, she would have to keep him away from those that would or worse, his brother. 

“Every Resistance member is going to use you as target practice as soon as they see you up and about and if they find out I helped you, I’m swiss cheese.”

“Just let me stay here with you for a while. Until I can figure out what to do.”

The Resistance would have her gutted if they knew she didn’t jump at the chance to put a bullet in the youngest Seed’s head, they both knew that, yet the Deputy felt helpless under his watery gaze and vice-like grip on her arm. John Seed was begging for her help and she was going to give it to him. She tried to look reluctant when she nodded at him but she always knew it would end up this way. Even if he hadn’t been reduced to begging. She had already seen enough death. She didn’t want more blood on her hands no matter whom it came from.

He graciously accepted the painkiller she had offered him, the only solace for the pain she had lying around, and it knocked him out almost immediately, his eyes fluttering closed to the image of the Deputy’s gentle face, hovering above him like an angel. His reluctant saviour.

“Deputy” her radio crackled to life and she startled, immediately feeling sick at the sound of Dutch’s familiar cheerful voice. “Great work in Fall’s End. You really showed that bastard, John. Holland Valley is gonna be a hell of a lot safer now that he’s gone.” 

Dutch was right. She chose not to respond. She couldn’t very well lie but she also couldn’t outwardly admit that she had kept the enemy alive. It wouldn’t go down well. She still needed to go free Hudson and she realised she had no idea how she was supposed to face her. What would Joey do if she found out Rook was nursing her captor in her own makeshift home? None of them would understand. She didn’t truly understand. Why did she save him?

She could still fix this. Nobody would have to know about her act of mercy. However, she didn’t have the will to take out her pistol. If she killed him, she’d be free from the guilt of betraying her friends, of not enacting vengeance on their behalf, and she’d never have to deal with his taunting rants but she would never be able to run from the guilt that she had killed a helpless man while he was unconscious. She wished someone could help her choose. 

His Chosen were probably scrambling like ants trying to find their leader. Joseph probably already heard what had happened and had written him off as dead. The Resistance was likely in the middle of celebrating at the Spread Eagle. Her friends were likely toasting to her. She was a moron and too weak to say no to his dumb pretty face, to a man in need of help. She couldn’t bring herself to let justice be served but she also couldn’t bring herself to care too much. Good or bad, what did it matter? The line was too blurred to distinguish at this point. Was she any better than her enemies? 

“Joseph” John whined in his sleep, clearly in distress as he was squirming slightly, snapping her out of her train of thought. Even in his sleep, he knew how to fuck with her and even in his sleep Joseph terrified him. 

Helping him was naive, stupid but everyone wanted her dead anyway. What difference did this make? It wasn’t as though the Resistance made much of a difference without her, anyway. If they turned their backs on her after this, she’d make it. She didn’t know what she’d do with John nor what he would choose to do once he was in better shape but if everyone turned their backs on them, they’d be in their own category in this fight, together. 

With a sniff, she pulled herself up onto the bed to lay beside him and decided that today was way too long. They’d solve all of this tomorrow. For now, she would see if sleep would be kind enough to take her into its clutches. She’d make things up as she went along, make decisions as they came, live one step at a time and maybe someday she’ll reach the end, whatever it held. Maybe someday she’d get peace again. 

Timidly, she reached out and trailed her finger down John’s face, feeling the surprising softness of his beard. When he didn’t react to her touch, she gained the confidence to move her hand up and run her fingers through his dark locks instead. John abruptly turned to his side, facing her, with a small groan and ended up being too close for comfort but she didn’t have the heart to push him away. She gave a sigh and snuggled in a little closer to his warmth, closing her eyes and trying to ignore his warm breath on her face and the heat on her cheeks. There were worse things to fall asleep to.

**Author's Note:**

> Tfw you like a guy but you’re meant to kill him because he’s tortured your friends and is an all-around dickhead. But he’s cute! 
> 
> He is an awful person but I can’t help but love him? Looking at his past, you can’t help but feel sorry for him. How much shit do you have to go through to get to where he is in the game? Deputy’s moral dilemma is the one I have with myself. This was initially pure angst but I went back and tried to make it a little fluffier buuut I’m really bad at it. I want them to smooch and be happy but I feel like I can’t ignore John’s actions and generally shitty behaviour which leads to…lots of angst. I wonder how many more of these fanfics it’s going to take to unleash all that pent-up angst inside of me…


End file.
